


Servitude

by SilverFountains



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Corporal Punishment, M/M, Master/Slave, Public Humiliation, Ritual Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:10:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1460428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFountains/pseuds/SilverFountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Witchesdelite's prompt : Kili sex slave kink. </p><p>Bilbo gets to live among the dwarves as they rebuild their home, learning about their customs and culture. But there is one particular custom that takes him quite by surprise!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Servitude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [witchesdelite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchesdelite/gifts).



Dwarf customs were unusual at best, Bilbo observed. Now that they had reclaimed Erebor he had been made honoured guest of the Mountain King and he was living in the midst of dwarven society. And if he had thought that these short-tempered but surprisingly jolly folk had been strange company during their months on the road together, he was in for a surprise when Thorin and his company settled down into their mountain home.

Thorin’s coronation had been a simply affair with only so few dwarves in Erebor still at that moment – it would take months before the others of Durin’s folk would be joining their kin - and Bilbo had felt very honoured to be a guest and witness to the event which would only be experienced once every few hundred years. Of course Fili was Thorin’s heir and he would be at the King’s side during any ceremony and the many deliberations which would start to take place now that Thorin was crowned king. None of that was particularly out of the ordinary, Bilbo thought, although the strict decorum and tradition that the dwarves upheld for such matters was new to him. Hobbits were a lot more easy-going than that.

However, he was not prepared for the role that Kili was given after his uncle’s coronation.

“Pr... prince Kili,” he stutters as he meets the brunet in the dining room in the evening.

Kili lowers his head as he remains standing. “Master Bilbo,” he whispers in a quiet voice. “May I serve you some bread?”

The prince is dressed in his dark brown breeches, but his chest is bare. He looks to be decorated with the most ornate jewellery – around his wrists are wide golden engraved bracelets and the same precious metal decorates the prince’s neck. However, somehow this golden jewellery looks different to what the other dwarves decorate themselves with. Heavier and worn much closer to the skin. So close in fact that Bilbo wonders if Kili can breathe properly.

“But prince Kili …” he starts, unsure why Thorin’s nephew, who had been so bubbly and spontaneous during their journey, was standing here bowing to him like a servant.

Thorin clicks his fingers from across the table and Kili bows in apology to Bilbo as he runs over to his king. “Master,” he bows deeply, so deeply that his nose almost touches his bellybutton.

“Kili,” Thorin scowls at him, “don’t stand there talking to the guests. My goblet is empty!” and to Bilbo’s horror Thorin shoves the item hard against Kili’s chest, making the young prince flinch. He has never seen Thorin act like this around his nephew. He always thought that Kili was Thorin’s favourite. He treated him almost like a son. The gold sickness must have gotten to him for sure, the way he is ordering his youngest nephew about.

“I beg you forgiveness, Master,” Kili bows again, before he takes the carafe of wine and fills his uncle’s goblet back up.

Bilbo does not understand what is going on. Why is Kili acting like this and why is he calling Thorin Master; he never has before. He wants to ask the other dwarves, but this is possibly not the right place. It appears Kili is being punished for something. Something rather severe by the looks of it. It is probably not his place to ask about the affairs of the royal family. Still, seeing Kili humbled and treated with such little respect feels… uncomfortable.

***

Bilbo has had no reason to enter the throne room since Thorin’s coronation. He spends his days with the likes of Bofur and Bombur who show him around the halls of Erebor and he has been happy to help out with their work to clean up the mess left after Smaug’s destruction.

However, one day he is summoned in front of the king to discuss the matter of his share in the treasure as he had been promised in return for his aid in their quest.

He enters the big hall, staring at the splendour with awe. Even after the desolation of the dragon, Erebor is still awe-inspiring. And the dwarves have worked hard to restore this part of their home so that their king can hold audience in an appropriately grandiose setting. Bilbo feels minuscule as he walks towards the king.

Thorin is seated on the great stone throne, the Arkenstone that Bilbo had stolen back from the dragon for him sparkling brightly above his head. Fili stands on Thorin’s right, Balin on his left. And Bilbo observes that Dwalin is standing near enough to the throne to swipe at anyone’s head should one make an attempt on the king’s life – or just upset him in any way.

And then there is Kili… Bilbo’s eyes feel like they might pop out of his head. The tall young archer is knelt in front of the throne, facing away from Thorin. He still wears his golden bracelets and collar, but this time the bracelets are connected to his collar with golden chains. His hands lay in his lap and his head is bowed down. As Bilbo gets closer he notices another chain that runs from the back of Kili’s collar towards Thorin throne. And his mouth falls open as he realises that Kili is chained to Thorin’s throne, the chain within reach of Thorin’s large hands, as he gives little tugs at it every now and again, making the archer jolt each time.

“Bilbo,” Thorin says in an even tone. And he commences the negotiation.

But Bilbo is struggling to concentrate on the words that come from his mouth. _Has no-one else noticed?_ He wonders to himself. _Can no-one else see that the prince of Erebor is tied up like a dog?_ He cannot stop himself from staring at the knelt down prince. _What is this?_ _What can the Durin prince possibly have done to deserve such punishment?_

Kili never once looks up. He just sits there, back straight but head down and eyes to the floor. He almost looks like a statue so still is he. Except of course when Thorin feels like pulling at the chain, which pulls the heavy golden collar against the young prince’s throat, making him gasp for air.

When Bilbo is finally excused from Thorin’s one-sided negotiations he is confused and upset. Why is Thorin doing this to Kili, humiliating him such? He does not like it. He does not like it one bit and he hopes that whatever Kili has done, his punishment will soon be over.

***

He can hear Kili’s cries ringing through the corridor. His heart is beating a little faster as he increases his short stride. It sounds like the young prince is in pain.

As he turns the corner he freezes on the spot.

“Quiet!” Thorin growls in his deep voice. “Stop your whimpering, little princess, or you will be getting another lashing.”

“Please, Thorin,” Kili whines softly.

The prince is sat on his hunches in the middle of the long wide hallway in his now usual state of undress, cowering with his hands over his head, the golden chains rattling from his wrists.

Thorin grabs a fist full of the archer’s hair and yanks his head back hard. He bends himself down until his face is but inches from his nephew’s. “Please what? Speak, Kili! What are you begging me for?!”

“I … I am sorry, Master. I am sorry that I was disobedient. I deserve your punishment, Master Thorin. I beg you to punish me. To teach me what my disobedience gets me.”

Bilbo shrinks, trying his very best to melt into the shadows. He wants to run towards Kili, he wants to help him. The other side of him wants to run away, as far away from what is going on in front of him as possible. In the end neither side wins and he remains frozen to the spot, staring open mouthed at Thorin towering over Kili, exerting his authority over the trembling form of his nephew.

Thorin grabs the chain around Kili’s neck and pulls him hard to his feet. “Very well,” he grins widely. And he yanks at Kili’s chains, dragging him behind him towards the royal quarters at the end of the hallway.

Bilbo realises he has forgotten to breathe and he gulps the air into his lungs. _I am sorry_ , he whispers at their backs. Poor Kili. Why is he not braver? Why did he not stand up to Thorin and tell him to leave the poor prince alone?

***

Dinner is becoming increasingly uncomfortable for Bilbo. Kili is never allowed to sit down and join them anymore. Instead all the dwarves of Thorin’s company, who through their long time on the road together have been so kind to the young prince, are now treating him like scum. None of them, except for Thorin, ever lay a finger on the archer. But they all snarl at him and order him about as he runs around carrying food and drink towards the table. Only when everyone else has finished their meal is the young prince allowed to eat the leftover scraps as he is ordered to clear the tables.

Bilbo is most angry at Fili. Goodness, he is his big brother! Fili had been so caring during their quest. He had even stood up to Thorin on numerous occasions when Kili was injured and had abandoned his own dream of seeing Erebor at the same time as the others over looking after his hurt little brother. How can he now then be so heartless? How can he treat his brother like a slave? And how can he let Thorin punish the young prince so harshly?

Bilbo cringes as Kili drops mug, the ceramic shattering on the floor. For a moment Bilbo thinks he saw the archer drop it on purpose, but no that cannot be, why would he do such a thing knowing full well that it will earn him the wrath of the king?

Everyone jumps as Thorin’s voice thunders through the dining hall. “You fool!” he shouts. “Come here right now!”

Kili jumps up from where he was gathering the shards and walks quickly towards where his uncle is sat.

“Kneel!” Thorin growls as he stands up himself.

Kili whimpers softly he sinks to his knees. Thorin grabs hard at his chin, making him look up at the tall dwarf king. “Why do you shame me in front of my guests, you stupid boy?” Thorin hisses.

“Because I am clumsy and stupid, Master Thorin,” Kili whispers softly.

“Louder boy! No-one can hear your whimpering when you whisper like that!”

To Bilbo’s horror there is loud laughing all around the table from the other dwarves at Kili’s humiliation. “Thorin…,” he tries shyly. Thorin’s eyes snap to him and he feels himself shrink under the intense stare. “It was just an accident. It was only a mug.”

Thorin laughs. “Well well, Master Baggins. I recall when my company came to dinner at your house that you were rather concerned over the way that your crockery was handled by my people.” Thorin’s tone to him is not unkind if a little mocking.

Bilbo blushes deeply. “You’re… you’re right,” he utters to his own horror. Why does he not have more balls? He should not be agreeing with Thorin!

But the king has already turned his attention back to Kili. “So?”

Kili clears his throat. “I am stupid and clumsy, Master Thorin,” he says louder this time.

Dwalin claps his big hands together and Bombur nearly falls off his chair with laughter.

“That is better,” Thorin smiles. “Now, what shall we do to punish you?”

“Spank him!” Ori calls out with a huge grin across his face. Bilbo stares at the youngish dwarf with incredulity.

“Thank you, Ori,” Thorin smiles. And then to Kili, “I think that is a good idea, don’t you?”

Kili manages to nod his head only a little with his chin in Thorin’s tight grip.

“Speak, boy!”

“Yes, Master Thorin,” Kili says quietly. “I think that is a good idea.”

“Good boy,” Thorin grins menacingly. He lets go of Kili’s collar and yanks him to his feet by the chains on his wrists. He pushes some of the dishes aside to make space on the table in front of him. “On your knees,” he orders nodding at the empty space on the table.

Kili clambers onto the wood and positions himself sidelong on all fours in front of Thorin.

“Fili!” Thorin swings around towards his heir. “Come here.” There is a chorused _ooooh_ from around the table as the blond gets to his feet and walks over to where his little brother is standing, held in place by the chains in Thorin’s hands. “His breeches,” Thorin nods.

Bilbo feels his cheeks flush a bright shade of magenta as the eldest prince pulls at the laces of Kili’s breeches before pulling them down so that the round globes of his backside are exposed. He sees the pink glow in Kili’s cheeks too as he is displayed in front of the company.

“Thank you, Fili.”

Bilbo glares at the crown prince. _How can he do this? How can he be such a willing complicit in his brother’s humiliation?_

“Such a lovely ass,” Thorin groans as he strokes over the roundings of Kili’s backside. “Such a shame I have to punish it because of your stupidity.”

“I deserve it, Master Thorin,” Kili whimpers. “I deserve the punishment of your hand.”

“My hand?” Thorin’s laugh rolls through the hall like an avalanche. “My dear boy, my hand would be far too good for you. Dwalin!”

His henchman stands up and walks over to Thorin, handing him a flat wooden instrument that looks somewhat like something you would use in a boat.

Bilbo cannot watch. All of a sudden the bread and cheese on his plate are of particular interest to him. But the sounds of the wooden paddle hitting the soft flesh of Kili’s butt and the pained whimpers coming from the dark-haired prince, combined with the jeering and laughing of their companions, penetrate deep into his brain nonetheless. The punishment seems to go on forever. And when the sharp rhythmic sounds finally end and Bilbo dares glance up, he can see the tears streaked down Kili’s face as he pulls up his breeches over his red-raw buttocks.

“Excuse me,” Bilbo mumbles as he gets up from his seat. He knows it is rude but he cannot take any more of this. And he flees to his chambers.

***

“You alright, laddie?” Bofur asks the next morning as he joins him on route to the forges.

Bilbo shakes his head. “No, no I am not alright. Something definitely not alright is going on around here, Bofur,” he begins carefully. He trusts this dwarf more than any other. Bofur had looked after him on their perilous journey and they had become close friends. “What has Kili done to be punished such?”

Bofur raises a surprised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean? Have you not seen him of late? He has been dressed and chained up like a slave! Everyone has been treating him like he is the lowest amongst you, when he is a prince! And then last night …” He cringes at the memory of the public punishment that Thorin had dealt Kili’s backside. “Thorin is hurting him to the point of crying and you are all laughing at it!”

 Bofur laughs. “Poor Bilbo,” he puts his arm around the little hobbit, so unaccustomed to their ways. “Kili is not being punished for anything. He has proposed to Thorin. And now he must demonstrate his servitude to him before Thorin will accept him as his consort.”

Bilbo’s eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open. “P…proposed? You mean … he is doing all this willingly?”

Bofur grins. “Oh yes, very much so! And quite enjoying it too I would say.”

“En…Enjoying it? Thorin is humiliating him. Beating him! How can Kili be enjoying that?”

But Bofur just grins all his teeth at him, giving no further explanation.

“How long is this going to go on for?” Bilbo asks anxiously.

“Only till Ghelekvustmerag, which is the Summer Fest in a few days’ time. Then Thorin will decide whether or not to accept his proposal. If he does they will be married at the end of the feast.”

“Oh!”

“So if you are lucky, you will be able to attend a royal wedding!” Bofur grins.

***

There must be about fifty to sixty dwarves living in Erebor now. And all are gathering in the great hall for the celebration of their Feast of Good Health. There is a buzz of excitement in the halls as the guests chatter about what is to come. Will Thorin accept Kili’s proposal of marriage? Will he take him as his royal consort?

Bilbo too is excited and he is relieved to know that at least after tonight Kili’s public humiliation and appalling treatment will be over, no matter whether Thorin accepts him as his consort or not.

He takes his seat in between Bofur and Fili as they are seated in the raised seats around the richly decorated centre of the hall.

“So what is going to happen?” Bilbo asks his neighbours. “Will they exchange rings?” That is the custom that is the norm amongst both men and hobbits.

Bofur almost spits out his teeth. “There will be ehm … a ring of sorts,” he grins and Fili chuckles next to him.

Bilbo looks at the both of them with incomprehension, but before he can ask another question, the room erupts in tumult as Thorin enters the hall. He is dressed in all his royal majesty, his deep-blue royal tunic decorated with silver, the heavy fur-lined mantle resting across his shoulders and the gold and silver crown contrasting against his raven black hair.

Balin bows to him. Then the royal advisor turns to the gathered crowd. “All hail King Thorin, son of Thrain son of Thror.”

The dwarves around Bilbo all cheer in honour of their king. He feels a little flutter of anticipation run through him as he is swept to join the others in their loud cheers.

But as the others around him get even louder, stomping and clapping and throwing their fists into the air, Bilbo loses all control of his tongue as Kili is led into the hall by the big warrior Dwalin. He is still chained up, but that is not the first thing that strikes to hobbit. His ears burn and his cheeks flush fiercely as the handsome prince is dragged by his chains in front of the crowd of rowdy dwarves. Stark naked. He walks awkwardly as Dwalin roughly pulls him forward towards Thorin, restricted in his movements not only by the chains connecting his wrists and neck collar, but more chains that run from his wrists to … Bilbo dares not look there … and from there towards another set of beautifully decorated golden clasps around his ankles.

Bilbo puts his hands in front of his face. He cannot look, he cannot stare at the young prince displayed like this in front of this crowd.

Well, maybe just a little peek. Just through his fingers.

Dwalin bows a curt bow to his king and then hands Thorin’s the chains of Kili’s bindings.

“Kili, son of Gili,” Thorin’s deep voice echoes through the hall as he addresses his nephew whose head remains bowed. “Prince of the royal line of Durin. A moon ago you asked for my hand in marriage.” More cheering from the crowd. “You have demonstrated your servitude to me and my people. You have learnt humility. You have suffered and yet never faltered. You have shown strength and commitment.” Thorin takes one step closer to the archer. “Look at me.”

Kili slowly raises his head.

“Ask me again.”

“Thorin, son of Thrain son of Thror, I wish for your hand in marriage. Will you take me as your consort?” Kili smiles widely.

“You have proven your worthiness to me and my people in all but one area,” Thorin smiles gently back at Kili.

Bilbo looks at Fili, but the blond is staring closely at the happenings right in front of them, a wide grin on his face. Bofur looks much the same.

“I will accept you as my consort if you can prove to me that you can satisfy all my needs.”

A hushed whisper runs through the gathered crowd. Bilbo spreads his fingers a little wider to see just a little better what is going on.

Kili kneels down in front of Thorin, awkwardly and wincing a little as he does so. Bilbo leans himself a little further forward and then jolts back as he realises what is about to happen. Kili’s nimble fingers, restricted by the chain linking his wrists to the tight ring around his manhood, pull the panels of Thorin’s tunic aside and pull at the laces of Thorin’s breeches. Bilbo gasps as Kili’s hands slides inside the fabric, only to pull back with Thorin’s large cock in his hand.

“Oh,” he can hear Bofur sigh next to him. “Kili is one lucky lad!”

Bilbo flushes when the soft whimper escapes his lips when Kili slides his lips around Thorin’s erection. Despite the constraints of his chains he seems to manage quite well as he starts to bob his head along the thick shaft.

Bilbo doesn’t know where to look. Bofur next to him is leant right forward for a better look and Fili’s hand has clearly slid down between his thighs as he watches the spectacle. Then, to Bilbo’s horror and embarrassment he can feel a twitching between his legs as he steals another glance at Kili expertly giving head to the King under the Mountain. Bilbo’s hands slowly slide off his face. No-one is looking at him anyway. All eyes in the room are firmly fixed on Kili displaying how well he can serve Thorin’s needs.

Thorin’s head is thrown back as his hands are tugging at Kili’s hair. His deep groans bounce around the room and Bilbo can feel the sweat running down his back as the erotic sounds fill his ears. Dear heavens, he is rock hard now, watching Thorin take pleasure from his nephew’s mouth.

All of a sudden Thorin growls deeply. “Stop!”

Kili stills immediately and lets Thorin’s cock drop from his mouth. The heavy member stands proud, contrasting sharply against the blue of Thorin’s tunic.

“You have done well, Kili,” Thorin smiles. “I hereby accept you as my consort.”

There are loud cheers all around, especially from Fili, and Bilbo sighs in relief as he joins the clapping. Now they will exchange rings and a kiss and the festivities can begin. And hopefully no-one will notice if Bilbo slips out for just a little while. Just to relieve the straining pressure between his legs.

But relief he is offered not just yet. Thorin accepts the key that Balin offers him and indicates for Kili to rise to his feet. Slowly he begins to unlock the chains that bind his newlywed. Each of the heavy golden chains hits the ground with a loud thud and Bilbo thinks how much weight Kili must have been carrying around with him all this time.

When Thorin is finished he turns Kili to face the crowd who cry their hails to the new royal consort. But all Bilbo can do is stare at the naked body of the handsome dwarf prince, still decorated with the golden clasps around his neck, wrists and ankles. And at the thick golden ring around his bone-hard prick.

“Now I will make you mine,” Thorin smiles and he bends Kili over.

If Bilbo thinks he could not be any more shocked after all he has seen then he is quite mistaken. As Kili willingly points his backside towards his uncle who now stands behind him, Thorin gently spreads his buttocks. Bilbo’s eyes grow wide as Thorin’s hand slides between them as his hand makes gentle twisting motions. Kili whimpers softly and his face contorts. A few moments later Thorin’s hand rises up, holding a long golden object with a thick bulbous end in the air for all to see. Again the crowd erupts in loud cheers.

“Poor brother,” Fili grins beside him. “I am surprised he can still walk after having that shoved up his arse all day.” He turns to smile at Bilbo and gently pushes the hobbit’s jaw closed before he points him towards the king and his consort again.

Balin strides over to Thorin and hands him an ornate bottle. Thorin nods and uncorks the flask.

“Are you ready for me, my prince?” Thorin asks Kili.

“Yes, my king,” Kili smiles eagerly, pushing himself back even more.

Thorin coats himself with whatever is in the bottle and then hands it back to Balin. Bilbo leans himself a little forward, for just a moment quite ensure what is going on. And then Kili lets out a wail As Thorin grabs hold of his hips and bucks himself forward.

“That’s it Thorin, fuck him hard!” someone shouts from somewhere to Bilbo’s right.

“F… fu…” Bilbo does not finish the word. Cannot. He is shocked. Embarrassed …. But oh so very aroused as he can feel himself pulse between his legs.

Kili whimpers and trembles as he gets shoved hard from behind. His hands are on his knees trying to keep his balance. Thorin groans deeply as the slapping of skin on skin echoes through the hall.

Bilbo can feel his heart racing. He is sweating profusely now as the aching pulse between his thighs increases. He glances around. The crowd is aroused for sure but the dwarves seem to handle themselves a little better than he is. Bilbo is beginning to worry. He is close to losing it. Those noises … Kili’s desperate whimpers and whines, Thorin’s deep throated groans and moans. He cannot take much more of seeing their bodies slap together, Thorin digging his fingers into Kili’s thighs.

Poor Kili must feel the same as he is. His cockhead almost purple from the thrusting he is receiving yet unable to find that release he must be so desperate for.

Bilbo’s head is spinning. He feels like he has drunk too much of the dwarvish ale. His temples are throbbing. Sweat is trickling down his spine. And his boner is blatant in his trousers now.

Thorin’s climaxing wail is too much. Bilbo flushes almost purple as he feels the wetness coat the inside of his breeches. He has never come untouched before.

Fili glances over and grins widely at him. “Enjoyed that, Bilbo?”

“Think he did,” Bofur chips in.

“Hail the king! Hail the prince consort!” Balin calls out, pulling Bilbo’s attention back to the newlyweds. Thorin has come away from his prince and covered himself up. Dwalin now places a heavy mantle around Kili, finally granting him his modesty. The crowd cheers once more as the two royals take each other’s hand and leave the hallway, presumably to finish their wedding night in private.

As soon as the royal couple has left the room, the hall quickly starts to empty, excited whispers rolling through the crowds. And Bilbo hastily gets up too, ready to dash towards his private chambers to clean himself up.

But he is stopped in his tracks as he hand lands on his shoulder.

“So ehm… Bilbo,” Bofur whispers in his ear. “To honour the new couple it is also our tradition that the guests consummate the wedding…”


End file.
